


"my youth is yours (run away now and forevermore)"

by sparks_fly



Series: [ for you're the start and end of me | park & park ] [11]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, society fucks them up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 13:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14570292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparks_fly/pseuds/sparks_fly
Summary: They are a paradox if he is to be honest





	"my youth is yours (run away now and forevermore)"

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiiiiiiiiiiii!  
> prolly my 3rd to the last fic in this series lmaooooo before i do my chamhwi agenda owo
> 
> almost 12k? are we serious??????!!!!????  
> my agenda was 10k at least so yay!!!  
> was supposed to be inspired by troye sivan's strawberries and cigarettes but ended up having troye sivan's youth loool
> 
> BTW!!! EXCESSIVE USE OF JIHOON AND WOOJIN'S NAMES  
> ALSO!!!!! the italicized he, him or any male pronoun-related is about woojin  
> i think i just wanted a worship fic about woojin ok

  
  


Jihoon  _ remembers. _

 

_ Red-haired boy, ripped black jeans, plain white t-shirt on. _

 

Park Jihoon has heard of  _ him.  _ Park Jihoon knows he spells  _ danger.  _ People don't speak of  _ him,  _ don’t look at  _ him.  _ People shun  _ him  _ off yet words from the tongues of the devils spread like a wildfire,  _ “if you play with fire, you'd get burned”.  _ Jihoon knows  _ he's  _ fire and Jihoon doesn't play with fire.

 

If anything, Jihoon is  _ his  _ exact opposite. He's safe, to say the least. A-grade student and as what others would like to prefer him  _ “a stuck up geek” _ , that's who he is.

 

They are a paradox if he is to be honest. So Jihoon cannot point out  _ how _ it happens. The start of a never-ending cycle called Life. A push and pull that either attracts or repels.

 

But then Jihoon  _ remembers. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


He remembers how it starts.

 

The sun is falling behind the horizon painting the sky red and orange when it begins. Jihoon is staying at the school rooftop after finishing his homework when he hears a rustle.

 

He pays no mind as he continues to adore the sky. He’s always felt happier like this. Without a care if he is falling and being free. No responsibilities or adult supervision, no burden to carry on his shoulders. No  _ Jihoon, we only want number one. Aim for the first. Not second best. Never second best. _

 

Sometimes, he wants to free himself. And the school rooftop is where he smells the freedom. But even so, at the back of his mind, he still hates it. He hates how unsure everything is. Unsure of how if he falls, nobody is to catch him fall.

 

“Do you have a light?” Someone asks him, cutting his train of thoughts.

 

Jihoon looks back when he sees _him. He_ is standing next to him and how _he_ gets close without noticing is to be blamed by the pretty sky.

 

_ He  _ is looking at Jihoon expectantly.

 

“I--- I’m sor—ry. I don’t – uh—smoke.” He stutters.  _ Good job, Park Jihoon. _

 

_ He  _ then smirks, shaking his head. “Of course, The Perfect Son doesn’t, who am I kidding.”  _ He _ mutters more to  _ himself _ , unbelieving  _ he _ even asked. Jihoon knows not be insulted.

 

It’s a knee-jerk reaction. Jihoon is  **that** predictable.

 

Then  _ he  _ leans closer. Jihoon becomes self-aware that his shoulder is bumping  _ his. _ He stands rigid on his place. He cannot, for the life of him, comprehend why  _ he _ is acting like this.  _ He  _ has never talked to him in his entire high school life nor has  _ he  _ glanced at his way for all he knows.

 

“The sky is pretty, right?” An ice breaker from  _ him.  _ The brunette does not expect  _ him _ to stay any longer, nor does he want  _ him  _ to even stay. So he nods as answer.

 

“Oh? So you’re not much a talker.”  _ He  _ concludes, shrugging. “Then I guess I will do all the talking.”

 

Jihoon bites his already chapped lips.  _ Why,  _ he wants to ask, _ why are you even here? _

 

“Is it too high up there?”  _ He  _ questions and Jihoon is looking at everything but  _ him.  _ There is a lump in his throat. He does not want to entertain  _ him. He  _ is a bad name.

 

But then  _ he  _ repeats with more conviction. “Is it too high up there where you’re standing that you can’t come down?”

 

“What.” He says flatly.

 

Then  _ he  _ glances at Jihoon with something he cannot understand (more like of a shared understanding of something that is yet to unfold) and before  _ he  _ leaves, he says, “You can try to come down once, too, you know. Live a life.” Then  _ he’s _ gone.

 

There are only two things Jihoon remembers, first is how fast  _ he  _ goes like the way  _ he  _ comes and second is he doesn’t realize when he’s started holding his own breath.

 

With his shaky lips, he releases a sigh that he doesn't realize he's holding.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ remembers. _

 

Jihoon remembers the fear and gasps.

 

He is walking off alone with tray on his trembling hands in the cafeteria is how it follows. There are hushed whispers and judging stares about him once more and it is not like it is a different day. He’s caught a senior named Cha Minho stealing the test papers and as he quotes and unquote,  _ “I’m sure it was you who told on our teacher because you are an overachiever stuck up brat who is scared to lose, right”  _ and with a violent push from the said boy, the rumor has spread.

 

Jihoon can handle it fine because he is used to it. What he is not used is him getting tripped by another student which sends his food and milk from the tray onto the air.

 

Then it is followed by a gasp, then another gasps until Jihoon finds himself gasping and gaping as well.

 

For  _ he  _ stands there, white shirt soaked by his soda and remnants of what should be delicious spaghetti on his face. Jihoon covers his mouth in shock.

 

“I’m really sorry.” He stands there, unknowing what to do.

 

But then  _ he  _ looks at Jihoon and Jihoon feels  _ his  _ stare. Bone-chilling. His own brown eyes catch  _ his black eyes.  _ Those black eyes hold more darkness than it seems.

 

Everyone has bated their breaths waiting for a fight because as fucked as it is, people live for drama. For something to talk about.

 

Jihoon would have preferred a push or a punch. He thinks it is much better --- much better than to be associated with  _ him.  _ He’s ready to close his eyes and accept his fate.

 

For the fight that everyone is silently cheering for has never come as  _ he _ leaves before Jihoon can even move.  _ He  _ leaves before Jihoon can say anything.  _ He  _ leaves with a pat on Jihoon’s shoulder.  _ He  _ leaves with more things to talk about.

 

_ He _ leaves with everyone subtly whispering  _ what the fuck has happened, did you see him patting the geek’s shoulder, did you see him letting the stuck up ass staining his shirt, where is the fight holy shit. _

 

And  _ he  _ leaves Jihoon breathless, too.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ remembers. _

 

He remembers how scary it feels.

 

The way Cha Minho and his friends are ganging up on him at the back of their school yard is scary. He remembers how each step he takes feels like the last he’s going to make. He remembers how  _ you good-for-nothing privileged boy, do you think you can survive, do you know how cruel the world you’re living in, with attitude like yours you are never making in _ etch a deeper hollow in his heart.

 

For they are correct. He lives in a cage that his own Mother and Father have built for him. They buy him the happiness that he needs to return to them one day.

 

When is he cornered, he remembers how painfully mocking Minho and his gang’s faces are. He crosses his hands and waits for the blows that he never receives.

 

Jihoon sees _ him. _

 

_ He  _ moves like a  bird in the gentle breeze.  _ His  _ long limbs are  _ his  _ wings flapping to a rhythm Jihoon does not know.  _ He  _ moves like  _ he  _ is dancing to an unknown beat that only  _ he  _ can hear.

 

To say that Park Jihoon is captivated is going to be the understatement of the year.

 

All he remembers is how lightning fast the others leave.  _ He  _ stands there, hands on  _ his  _ knees and Jihoon runs to  _ him. _

 

“Are you okay?” He worriedly asks. His eyes never leaving  _ him. _

 

The red-haired boy nods. “I’m all good.”

 

Jihoon opens his mouth and wants to say  _ thank you for saving me  _ but nothing comes out. Instead, he realizes that  _ his _ knuckles are bruised and lips battered.

 

And Jihoon remembers how he takes him to the nurse’s office with his hand on  _ his _ , rummaging for betadine and cotton.

 

He sits  _ him _ on the bed as Jihoon treats  _ his  _ lips. Jihoon wants to ask him so many things but he is not sure how to start them.

 

“Maybe you can just say thank you.”  _ He  _ tells him. Jihoon looks confused for a moment before  _ he  _ continues. “It’s written all over your face. What should I say? Thank you would suffice.”

 

“Thanks.” Timidly, he replies.

 

The awkward silence that follows through is deafening as he treats  _ his _ bruised lips. There is something about  _ him _ that makes Jihoon literally breathless.

 

_ He  _ is close. Jihoon stands next to  _ him _ , right hand treating  _ his  _ lips. Jihoon notices that  _ his  _ lips are black. Perhaps from smoking. But somehow, it’s a little appealing as  _ he  _ winces every time Jihoon presses the cotton. Somehow,  _ his  _ lips are captivating each time  _ he  _ bites it to stop  _ himself  _ from making a noise.

 

_ It’s a little bit cute, _ Jihoon thinks, for  _ he  _ is trying too hard not to utter pain. But  _ he  _ is close to that. So close.

 

“You know me, right?”  _ He  _ asks.

 

Jihoon nods. “Who doesn’t?”

 

And  _ he  _ smiles. A small one. Almost but not really there. “Should I be flattered that Park Jihoon knows a nobody like me?” The red-haired boy teases.

 

“Well, I’m more surprised you even know me.” He banters back. Jihoon does not like losing. “It’s not like you are paying attention when you go to school at all.”

 

_ He  _ then scoffs. “I don’t pay attention to others, however, I pay attention to you.” Jihoon tenses.  _ Why,  _ he wants to know. “Your face is screaming why right now. Do you want to know why, Jihoon?”

 

_ Jihoon,  _ his name hasn’t felt  _ this  _ arousing.

 

So he nods dumbly.  _ He  _ pats  _ his  _ hands on his cheeks, moving forward. Jihoon can smell the cigarette smell from  _ him.  _ But it’s okay, it’s okay because not only does  _ he  _ smell like a smoke, hell  _ he  _ smells something sweet.

 

“Have you ever had your breath be taken away it feels suffocating? Have you ever stood close to the fire? Have you ever fallen so deep in love with someone it leaves your breathless? Have you tried climbing down from your throne, Jihoon?” Slowly,  _ he  _ whispers. “Live a life without regrets.”

 

There’s nothing that Jihoon wants to do more than to lean forward to  _ him.  _ He wants to feel _ him,  _ to touch  _ his  _ lips with his chapped ones.

 

_ He  _ sits there, staring at his lips.  _ He  _ sits there and Jihoon can feel  _ his  _ kiss already. There is something about  _ him  _ that makes Jihoon want to do something wrong. But why does this wrong feel so right?

 

“By the way,”  _ he  _ suddenly says, “congratulations for your first school offense. Breaking in at someone’s office. Who knew you had it in you?”

 

Then slowly it registers at Jihoon like someone pours cold water on him. His first school offense is because of  _ him.  _ And that’s fine, Jihoon has never felt  _ as breathless as he is right now. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ recalls. _

 

Park Jihoon recalls the craving for more.

 

Unfortunately for him, Principal Kwon has found out about his first offense and in exchange for a clean record, Principal Kwon has told him  _ “You have to make sure that Park Woojin's grades go up, if you want to keep a clean record.”  _ and that is how Jihoon finds himself wandering the hallways in their school after the classes.

 

Jihoon is not sure how to feel --- he knows he should feel sad or mad because instead of focusing on his own studies, he has to worry for another student's grades. He knows he should feel scared that he's going to meet  _ Park Woojin _ , well, he is --- but it's more like he's more excited. As if he's the craving to be with  _ him  _ more and Jihoon is not sure where this is coming.

 

So he wanders around the empty hallways of their school but the red-haired boy is nowhere to find. He's almost given up when he hears a loud music from the school rooftop. He hurries to go there and gets the biggest shock of his life.

 

There  _ he _ is in all  _ his _ glory.

 

_ Red-haired boy, ripped black jeans, plain white t-shirt on. _

 

_ Loud and powerful music. _

 

_ Dancing and lost in his own game. _

 

_ Sinewy yet sleek moves. _

 

And to say Park Jihoon is hypnotized is an understatement of the year. He is more than hypnotized by how fluid and solid Woojin's moves are.  _ He _ is unrestrained and free like he's never seen  _ him   _ before. There's no Park Woojin, the boy with worst reputation ever, not the boy who doesn't study or only knows how to fight. When Woojin dances, it is as if it is the only way his body truly knows how to convey himself.

 

It's a breath of fresh air.

 

Jihoon has never been this in wonder as much as he is as of the moment.

  
  
  


“Did you like it?” Woojin asks.

 

Jihoon wonders when _ he's  _ stopped dancing or when Jihoon actually starts spacing out. He knows he's flustered because Woojin's eyes are teasing him. He strides forward to stand in front of Woojin lamely, hands tightening on his books.

 

“Uhm – Principal Kwon,” He starts but Woojin interrupts with a shrug. “She wants me to take classes with you, right?”

 

Jihoon nods ever dumbly.

 

Woojin takes out his towel from his bag, patting on his face like he's trying to seduce Jihoon.  _ He's  _ giving him glances here and there and Jihoon feels taken aback especially because he thinks he's kind of attractive in a way that Jihoon never felt for anyone for that matter.

 

“I'll take classes with you.” Woojin replies and Jihoon breathes out a little bit loudly than he's supposed to. “On one condition.” He adds.

 

Jihoon almost rolls his eyes. Of course, there's always a condition.

 

Woojin cuts off what he's thinking by bending forward till  _ he  _ is looking up to meet Jihoon's eyes. Jihoon is really surprised to be meeting  _ his  _ eyes. He wants to take a step backward but it becomes hard. Not when Woojin is looking at Jihoon as if he is the only that matters. Not when nobody tries looking at him the way  _ he  _ is of the moment.

 

Time stops, at least for Jihoon, but in reality it's only three seconds.

 

“You know I'd kiss you senseless right now.” Woojin in low husky voice says. Jihoon  _ almost  _ tells to  _ go ahead, please kiss me _ , but who is Jihoon kidding right now? “But that's not my condition, though. I want you to dance with me.”

 

_ What. _

 

Wait, what, really?

 

Jihoon's jaw drops and Woojin is smirking and Jihoon  _ almost _ says yes. But he tries to stop himself because he doesn't dance. He doesn't know how to dance and he doesn't want to fool himself in front of the other boy.

 

Not when Woojin is gifted with dancing. Like dancing is made for Woojin to explore.

 

And Woojin is dragging him and Jihoon doesn't hear any music. The red-haired boy guides him as they move along the music that only both of them can hear. Woojin traces Jihoon's body with his calloused hands and Jihoon almost shies away from the sudden proximity but Woojin's moves are bold and fluent as  _ he  _ leads Jihoon into a world he's never known.

 

They dance as if there's nothing else matters in this world and Jihoon feels lighter and calmer. He doesn't think whether he needs to finish some things or not, or whether he's going to step on Woojin's toes or not, just that being with Woojin and being able to clear his mind is actually really nice, he muses.

 

“I've never thought you could dance really well.” reflects Jihoon once they lie on the ground after a round of their dancing. They're sweaty, hands outstretched but almost touching. At least, their pinkies are. And Jihoon _ kind of  _ wants to touch Woojin.

 

There's a loud scoff from Woojin as soon as  _ he _ hears it from Jihoon. “Well, it's not like everyone does.”  _ He _ then gets up and puts his bag on his shoulder. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Jihoon, you just told me that you need to tutor me, right?” Jihoon nods. “Guess I'll see you for a tutoring session tomorrow.”

 

“What, wait ---” Jihoon cannot believe that Woojin is agreeing this easily as he stands on his feet. He's expected him to make it hard for Jihoon. To complicate things but Woojin is just agreeing because he danced with him?

 

Woojin only ruffles his hair, mumbling. “You know that you're too pretty like a doll.”

 

He knows there's a blush forming on his cheeks.

 

“Doll.” Woojin repeats, nodding his head. “It suits you, doll.”

 

Before Jihoon can protest that no, he doesn't look like a doll, he's not pretty, he's average at its worst, he doesn't want to be called like a doll cause he's a boy, a man --- who wants to be called that way, but Woojin has left already.

 

Woojin leaves Jihoon with pounding heart in his ribcage.

 

He  _ kind of  _ likes it.

  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ recalls _ .

 

Jihoon recalls the hankering to get to know more about the boy with cigarette in between his fingers.

 

Because, for a moment, Jihoon is concerned whether the boy in front of him is another person. They find themselves in the corner of the rooftop, bags and books strewn on the ground, Woojin's head is buried on his book. Jihoon cannot believe that he's seeing Woojin studying.

 

He feels like there's a smile painting on his lips.

 

Woojin nudges his knee to get his attention. “Can you stop looking at me, doll?” He asks. Jihoon easily flusters because Woojin called him doll and  _ he  _ knows he's looking at  _ him.  _ “You know when you blush, you get prettier. Kim Doyeon is shaking at her boots right now.”

 

Jihoon covers his mouth to stop the smile and ducks his head on his book. Why is he feeling this giddy? This is supposed to be a tutoring session, not a flirting session _ so get your head out of clouds, Park Jihoon _ .

 

He watches the younger boy as  _ he _ continues to study. Maybe, there's something more than meets the eye when it comes to Park Woojin. But is he allowed to know? Is he allowed to be curious? Is he allowed to see the real him? are the questions  that clouds his mind. There's an itch in his throat to ask but he's scared that he doesn't have any rights to so he chooses silence instead.

 

Jihoon buries his head in his own book to occupy his mind.

 

But really, Woojin is so attractive.

  
  


Neither of them realizes that time has passes by quickly and Jihoon feels like dying. He's so sure that he's going to be walking back home and it's a good 30 minute walk _ god, why do you hate me so much _ is hanging off of Jihoon's lips.

 

But Woojin is handing him a black helmet as  _ he  _ puts his own and mutters, “Hop on.”

 

_ What. _

 

As far as Jihoon knows, there is a rumor that Woojin never lets anyone to even go near his own motorcycle or it's going to be a hell hath no fury for anyone. So why is Woojin giving him a helmet and why is Woojin letting him ride his own motorcycle? But before he can even confuse himself more, Woojin is putting the helmet on him with a shake of  _ his _ head. Jihoon wants to yell at  _ him  _ for frustrating  and confusing him or he wants to punch  _ him  _ so that  _ he _ can wake up from a dream but he does neither.

 

He uneasily settles himself at the back, hands loosely tangling on Woojin's t-shirt.

 

“Are you sure?” Woojin's voice is teasing.

 

“Wha—t.”

 

Woojin only shakes  _ his _ head and as soon as  _ he _ drives  _ his _ car away, uncaring if Jihoon is ready. Jihoon feels like he's lost ten years of his life at how fast Woojin is driving that he suddenly wraps his arms on Woojin's waist, scared that he might fall.

 

_Fall for what, Jihoon,_ _fall for Woojin?_

 

_ You wish. _

 

But the gushing wind proves otherwise.

  
  


Jihoon remembers the way his parents give him disappointing stares as soon as he closes the door. He remembers the way they scrutinize him as  _ who is that boy, you shouldn't hang out with such, Park Jihoon, we're expecting better from you _ ringing in his ear.

 

He only bows and replies that _ Principal Kwon asked me to tutor him, Mother and Father,  _ and tries avoiding the questioning glares his parents give him. He escapes once his Mother is about to ask him another question and throws himself on the bed.

 

With a hand on his chest, Jihoon smiles and thinks  _ I can wait to spend more time with you. _

  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ learns _ .

 

Jihoon learns that Park Woojin is someone that is more than meets the eye.

 

The bruises on  _ his _ face and the battered lips say that Woojin is  _ bad  _ and it's better to stay away from the likes of  _ him _ . If his parents' look at him that night isn't a warning enough, Jihoon does not know better. But Jihoon doesn't, he isn't swayed by any words nor by any gaping stares he receives when Woojin drags him somewhere he does not know.

 

It's an old building and Woojin must know the owner because the guards just let them pass by. The elevator seems old but Woojin is holding his hand, albeit too tightly he feels like he's losing blood. But it's worth it. It's worth losing the blood.

 

For they are standing in the most breathtaking place Jihoon has ever set his eyes for.

 

Jihoon takes a step forward, hands on the strap of his bag, jaw wide open as he takes in the surroundings. They are in the fire exit stair case, it's as simple as that, Jihoon knows it's kind of rusty but it's steady. And it's  _ Woojin-esque. _ The feeling of danger and the outcomes but the feeling of serenity and steadiness.

 

What Jihoon considers breathtaking is the skyline of Chicago. The blinding light colors of pink, blue, orange, and violet mixed together. The darkness emphasizing the contrasting colors everywhere. To put it short, Jihoon finds  _ this _ very beautiful, no matter how loud and noisy the city is.

 

He takes a glance at Woojin who is busy spacing out and decides that being with  _ him  _ here in this place is the most important part of it.

 

“Stop staring at me.” Woojin chastises playfully, glancing and meeting his eyes.

 

That's when he remembers the bruises on his face and gets alarmed. “What happened to your face? Did you fight again?” He puts his hand to touch  _ him  _ but he remembers  _ who are you to be touching him?  _ so instead, he retracts his hand once more, awkwardly dangling it by his side.

 

“Do you think I always fight people?” Woojin wonders out loud, shrugging his shoulders in effect. “Well, I guess I do have that reputation, right? But who cares? Do I? Obviously not. And you shouldn't, too.”

 

“I shouldn't what?”

 

“Care about what people would think of you.”

 

Jihoon ponders about it. Woojin has a point. Jihoon does not exactly care about everyone's opinions per se, but for him, his parents' opinions are what matter the most. But their expectations, their whims about his future, he feels like he can't attain them.

 

Woojin finds himself sitting on the stairs, head low, and there's something about Jihoon that wants  _ him _ to be wrapped in a blanket.

 

“My Mom died in an accident when I was younger.”  _ His _ voice sounds weaker than possible. “Ever since then, my stepdad blames me for that.” There's an awkward silence that follows through. Jihoon doesn't have it in him to say anything. Woojin's back is shaking that Jihoon sinks beside  _ him  _ with a heavy heart. “These bruises would tell you how much he hates me.”

 

Then Woojin turns to him,  _ his _ eyes red but  _ he _ still has it in  _ him _ to shrug it off. But Jihoon is decided. And Jihoon does what everyone would never do --- what everyone thinks dangerous, he learns in and wraps his arms around Woojin's figure. Woojin's body freezes and tenses. Jihoon bates his breathing and waits till Woojin relaxes.

 

And  _ he _ does. And Jihoon feels like he's won the biggest award in his life.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ smiles. _

 

Park Jihoon cannot, for the life of him, believe that he'd smile because of  _ him. _

 

There's something very much  _ attractive _ with the way  _ he's _ biting  _ his _ lips as  _ he _ concentrates on the book. There's the little proud man in his heart as he watches Woojin doing all  _ his _ might to study. He doesn't expect Woojin to even agree, let alone spend each and every waking day with him inside the library, books on the table.

 

But oh,  _ he _ is. Woojin is and that's a nice sight to see. Principal Kwon would be proud of him, but more than ever, he is proud of Park Woojin for taking this as serious as he can.

 

“Doll,”  _ He _ drawls, looking up at him. Jihoon tries to hide the red tingling feeling that's currently blossoming on his face with a book but fails as Woojin puts the book down. Boy, does  _ he _ look mischievous. “why are you watching me intently?”

 

“I---I'm not!” Jihoon whines.

 

“Oh, really, now?” Then Woojin's pointing finger reaches his cheek, poking it. Jihoon flinches. Sits up straight. The faintest sound of his own heart beat drop. The time stills. Jihoon's flushed cheeks blooming into the most beautiful pink shade anyone could have ever seen.

 

Park Fucking Woojin then leans forward and whispers, “Did I make The Perfect Student blush like this?” Jihoon wants nothing but to beat  _ his _ smug handsome face. And also, mayhaps make out with  _ him _ . Either way, Jihoon wants to do something with  _ his _ face. “But the color pink suits you so much.”

 

Then Woojin goes back to  _ his _ book and pretends nothing has happened. Jihoon goes back to his book, as well, pretending his heart is not beating loudly against his chest.

  
  


What's caught Jihoon's attention after few hours after is Woojin watching him read a book with  _ his _ hands under  _ his _ chin. Lips pursed and mind wandering into a place that Jihoon cannot reach. It's adorable --- charming, a new side that nobody has seen of him.

 

“Why is everybody's misconception of you is that kid who always likes to fight and smells trouble?” Seriously, subtlety has never been Jihoon's best friend. He wants to beat himself up when Woojin startles on his seat, slowly closing the book that he's been reading.

 

But this question is plaguing his mind for awhile now. Woojin, from the days he's been spending with him, is actually not a troublemaker.

 

_ He _  purses  _ his _ lips and Jihoon's eyes wander on them for a little while. He wonders how bad it taste like. And then  _ he  _ meets his eyes, a little bit mischievous. “They see what they want to see, but they never really ask where it comes from. They believe what they see and turn blind and deaf after. So I don't bother explaining myself anymore. Their opinions on me don't matter.”

 

Jihoon nods thoughtfully.  _ He's  _ got a point. Which is actually the opposite of him. Everything matters for Jihoon, no matter how small or big it is.

 

“What do you want to do after high school?” Woojin asks out-of-the-blue.

 

He sits frozen. What does he want to do after high school? He wants to be a valedictorian so he can enter a prestigious University, perhaps New York University? Or his parents say so. They want him to take over the business after. That's what they want.

 

“And when I ask you what you want, I meant what you want. Not your Mom's or Dad's or whatever fucked up society wants for you.”  _ He _ clears.

 

_ Photography _ .

 

But is that okay? Is that alright? Can he actually want something for himself by himself because he wants to? Is he allowed for that?

 

But he wants to see and show the beauty of the world that not everyone is privileged to see. He wants to put up the pictures Jihoon fails to puts in his words. That's what he want.

 

“Photography.” He answers after a while of silence and he sees Woojin nodding at him approvingly.

 

“It suits you.”  _ He _ says, matter-of-fact. “But I guess the best muse would be yourself. You can't put the beauty of yourself in words, doll.”

 

If Jihoon is not blushing, he knows he is not. His cheeks are of hot pink that he can't help but to look up to fan himself. Woojin has  _ that  _ knowing smirk which sometimes knocks off air in his stomach. Is he cursed and this is his punishment?

 

“Stop.” He whispers.

 

“What?” There's innocence in Woojin's eyes.

 

“That!”

 

“I'm not even doing anything.”  _ He _ says but  _ he _ waggles  _ his _ eyebrows at him playfully.

 

“But what about you?” Jihoon suddenly asks, to divert Woojin's attention away from him.

 

“Me?”  _ He _ points a finger at  _ himself _ .

 

Jihoon nods, waiting for  _ his _ answer.

 

“I want to get out of this town. I want to go to New York and be on my own. I can't wait to be eighteen, doll. I can't wait to graduate and leave this place.” Woojin answers honestly.

 

How did society fuck Park Woojin up, he wants to know. Jihoon would like to have a talk with society and whoever hurts this boy.

  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ memorizes _ .

 

Jihoon memorizes the agony of being alone.

 

He memorizes how it feels like to be invisible as if he isn't existing. He memorizes how it feels better to be alone --- to be without friends. He's okay with people calling him “the stuck up geek” that nobody wants to befriend with. That's okay, he understands them. He knows all the name callings and no matter how fucked up it sounds, he's gotten used to them.

 

But this time, it's a little bit different.

 

He's been called different names and they don't hurt as much as today. Even when the others have seen entering the comfort room, he still hears and they still talk. This time, though, he's called  _ a fag. A fag who leeches on the troublemaker. _

 

Jihoon is not sure why this particular name calling stings a lot. He is not sure why the tears keep falling from his eyes inside the cubicle he's in. He grips his hands as hard as he can thinking that maybe this would hurt less. But it doesn't.

 

Not when the other students outside laugh mockingly. Do they feel great when they hurt someone? Do they feel superior by now?

 

So Jihoon loudly opens the door and glare at the other students who only look at him back with challenging faces. He wants to punch them straight on their faces --- wants to see them bloody and broken the way he feels now. But he can't. He doesn't.

 

So he runs. He escapes. Because, really, this is what he is best in.

  
  


Jihoon  _ memorizes _ .

 

Jihoon memorizes the agony of being alone.

 

Until he isn't anymore. Not anymore when Jihoon bumps into Woojin's chest in the middle of the school hallway.  _ He _ , without even questioning, wraps around  _ his _ arms around him as if he can disappear inside. Woojin takes him away. And never has Jihoon felt  _ home _ more than now. Inside Woojin's strong arms.

  
  


Jihoon  _ memorizes _ .

 

Jihoon memorizes the agony of being alone.

 

But he isn't anymore.

 

When Woojin gives him a rock, he can only roll his swollen eyes at him and sarcastically asks, “So yay! A rock. Want me to whack this in your crack head, Park Woojin?”

 

Woojin then clinches his fingers around Jihoon's chin and smirks at him. The kind of smirk that sends butterflies inside his stomach. The one where you know it's dangerous --- way too dangerous ---but you're blind and you sill fall headfirst.

 

“We both know society is trying to fuck us up, but don't let it get into you.”  _ He _ says. And Jihoon wants to believe that everything is going to be fine. Because with Woojin,  _ it's fine. It's all fine. _

 

Woojin then turns to a house, pointing  _ his _ finger at the window. “When something hurts you, you just don't accept it. It's either you lose or you get even. That's life.”

 

To say Jihoon is confused is quite the understatement of the year.

 

_ He _ point again to the house with his lips and shrugs. “That's Minho's house. Do you want to lose or do you want to get even?”

 

When Jihoon looks back at Woojin,  _ he _ gives a Look and Jihoon feels a little bit rebellious.  _ Are you going to be forever a loser, Park Jihoon? Are you going to let everyone dictates you on what is right and what's wrong? _

 

The answer is no.

 

So Jihoon takes a step and swings his hand as hard as he can. The sound of glasses breaking and the sound of his own heart beat thumping faster with the adrenaline that comes after has never felt  _ this _ good.

 

Perhaps because Woojin is with him. Woojin smiles. For the very first time  _ he _ is with him. It all feels very nice.

 

Woojin takes his hands and run away. But with Woojin, he'd take a chance.

  
  


As soon they reach somewhere far away from Cha Minho's house, Woojin pats him on his shoulders reassuringly. It all feels surreal, however, good.

 

“Congrats, doll.” Woojin says with a goofy smile. Jihoon has to hold his heart for a while.

 

“What --- what for?”

 

“You've grown some balls.” That's all Woojin says and walks.

 

Jihoon follows  _ him _ . Jihoon would follow Woojin wherever  _ he _ goes.

  
  
  


Jihoon  _ recognizes _ .

 

Jihoon recognizes how exciting it feels.

 

To have Woojin as close as possible in an open space area. Sitting side by side each other, shoulders touching, arms almost winding with each other as they both watch the meteor shower one chilly evening.

 

It's a comfortable zone for two of them and nobody can ruin. He watches as Woojin smiles --- from a tiny one to a huge one and Jihoon feels proud that he's with Woojin this time. To see  _ him _ smiling after only seeing  _ his _ scowls and anger. The misjudgment of everyone in Woojin.

 

For  _ he's _ never dangerous. Never ever dangerous.

 

Childlike --- innocence --- freedom, that's how Woojin should be associated with.

 

“Doll.” Woojin hums, looking back at him.

 

Jihoon tries to look away but he can't. Woojin is looking at him (if he can describe it) with affection. So full of it. Jihoon flushes by the thought. Why would anyone look at Park Jihoon the way Park Woojin does? He's not worthy.

 

“You're staring.” Woojin accuses but his voice hints fondness instead of distaste.

 

“No, I'm not.” He counters back, because he really isn't. But who is Jihoon fooling around?

 

“Do you want  a photo of me, doll?” Woojin inquires, elbowing him playfully. “My mom says that photos last much longer, you know.”

 

Park Jihoon kind of wants to get swallowed by the Earth  _ right now. _

 

“Have you ever thought about fate?” Thank God, Woojin is now changing the subject after a while.

 

But this subject is not what Jihoon expects from  _ him _ .

 

“Have you?” Jihoon counters back because Woojin's eyes are a little bit lost as  _ he _ looks up once more to the sky.

 

Woojin nods and Jihoon is surprised. “I think it's worth the wait.” Jihoon nods and agrees. But what he doesn't expect is when Woojin glances at his way indiscreetly as if  _ he's _ wanting him to see.  “I think, doll, you're worth the wait.”

 

And boy, does Woojin's words do wonders in his already too fast beating heart.

  
  


Jihoon  _ recognizes _ .

 

Jihoon recognizes how good it feels.

 

To have Woojin standing beside him as they walk back home. How good it feels when Woojin sweeps his hair with his hand because  _ goddamnit, how do you look so so so good, Park fucking Woojin? r _ inging at the back of Jihoon's mind.

 

And Jihoon still questions how Woojin does it. They're just walking home and then the next thing Jihoon knows is that he's holding his arms.

 

Jihoon recognizes how good it feels. Because no matter how Woojin's hand feels rough and thick intertwine with his own warm and soft one, it still sends him shiver because it really feels good to be assured that Woojin --- Woojin is with him.

 

No matter what happens in the future, Jihoon doesn't really mind anymore. Even if whatever he has with Woojin is going to be short-lived, he'd take a chance.

 

_ For you, anything for you, only you, Park Woojin. _

  
  
  


Jihoon  _ tries _ .

 

Jihoon tries to move forward.

 

If Jihoon has a list of what he's afraid of, number one on his list is the Ferris wheel. He doesn't really like the way his heart leaps at every bump here and there with the Ferris wheel, no matter how they keep saying it is steady. Even the way Lee Daehwi, Bae Jinyoung's best boy friend, hops from one foot to another kind of irritates him. Even the shrilling of other children annoys him to death in the amusement park they are in.

 

He's tried to text Woojin to go with him but the latter replies with a vague  _ Just enjoy, doll. I'll see you later.  _ Jihoon wants to know why Woojin is busy. However, he can't say no to Lee Daehwi's pout no matter how much he's tried to outright refuse him.

 

_ “But hyung, you're going to graduate very soon!” Then the signature pout and puppy eyes. Jihoon wanted to bleach his eyes. “So come with me and Jinyoungie hyung, alright? Love you!” _

 

You can never win against Lee Daehwi.

 

It's a long line and Daehwi's already shouting.

 

“Hey! Come on! We want to ride the Ferris wheel! Faster!” Daehwi shouts and Jinyoung fondly shakes his head only. Whipped.

 

But Jihoon's stomach is rumbling and he wants to vomit just by the sight of the roller coaster.

 

Jinyoung notices. “Are you okay, hyung?” Sometimes, Jihoon thinks Jinyoung is a much better younger friend than Daehwi can ever be.

 

“I just don't feel well.”

 

“Oh yeah, Jihoon hyung is scared of roller coaster.” Daehwi informs his boyfriend as if it's nothing.

 

“And you're making him ride it?” Jinyoung sounds unbelieving this time.

 

Daehwi rolls his eyes dramatically and turns to Jinyoung with a pout. “Jihoonie hyung needs to face his fear now. He is no longer just a high school boy. In a few months, he's going to be in college and he's going to face a scarier world, Jinyoungie hyung.”

 

If Daehwi is having that as an explanation, then he guesses he has a point.

 

He turns away from the couple who's still bickering whether Jihoon needs to ride the roller coaster or not, and thinks of Woojin. These past few days, there's nothing in his mind but   _ Woojin,  Woojin, Woojin _ and the way  _ he's _ smiled at Jihoon the day he tried throwing rocks at someone's house.

 

He feels a little bit excited by the thought of telling another tale of Jihoon to Woojin so he clasps his hands on both his friends' arms and with a determined look, he says. “I can do this. I'll do this.”

 

Daehwi only smiles like a mother to him and compliments, “Welcome, Jihoon hyung.”

  
  


Jihoon  _ tries _ .

 

But Jihoon is really scared.

 

_ I can do it, I can do it,  _ the mantra is not working anymore. The gondola is a little unsteady but Daehwi is delighted and excited and he keeps moving here and there. The gondola moves and moves and Jihoon wants to throw up so badly.

 

So he grips on Jinyoung’s arm tightly as he looks outside. He tries to imagine Woojin’s smile, somehow it gives him a little bit peace of mind.

 

“Hyung,” Daehwi sighs. “that’s my boyfriend you’re holding on.”

 

Jinyoung gives Daehwi a stinky eye.

 

“I’m just reminding.” He shrugs and slowly turns away but Jihoon knows there’s some venom in his tone.

 

So Jihoon slowly releases Jinyoung from him and turns to look up in the sky. Slowly, he looks down and sees the people turn into ants instead. The loud clattering of the people in the amusement suddenly does not seem annoying anymore as he stands up and tries to reach down something somewhere.

 

Because fuck it, he’s spotting Park Woojin down in his imagination, clapping  _ his  _ hands for him and Jihoon feels the proudness in his heart that only  _ him  _ can make.

 

“I’m so happy that you’re showing bravery now, hyung.” Jinyoung cuts him off and sees Daehwi hanging on Jinyoung’s neck. “But can you not like try to kill yourself while we’re in the gondola?”

 

“Yes.” Daehwi agrees, nodding. “We kind of want to get married and have like 5 kids, Jihoonie hyung.”

 

Jinyoung looks at Daehwi scandalized at the younger. “I thought we only agreed to two kids?”

 

Jihoon smiles at them fondly while they bicker. 

 

Maybe, he kind of wants this kind of relationship with Woojin. Maybe. In the future.

 

But that night, Woojin does not reply him.

  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ resists. _

 

Jihoon resists the monotony of his life.

 

It’s been days since he’s last seen Woojin and it’s kind of driving him crazy. Never mind the fact that his parents are adding to the craziness he’s been feeling.

 

“What do you mean, Park Jihoon, by that?” His mom hisses, hands on her waist. If he were that Jihoon before, he’d be gladly to sink down and disappear from the world but he isn’t --- not anymore.

 

Jihoon fiddles with his hands and sighs. “I said, I’d take photography once I graduate from high school.”

 

His Dad freezes on his place and gives him The Look. “Photography? Will that actually feed your mouth, huh? Will that give you enough money? What will the others would think of us?”

 

He clenches his fists and stomps on his feet which surprised his parents a lot. “I don’t want to take care of your business. I want to decide for myself.”

 

“And what, Park Jihoon? To be the loser Park Jihoon?” His Mom crosses hers arms in front of her chest.

 

Jihoon stands up. He’s had enough of this bullshit. “No, Ma. Even if I were to become a loser in your eyes, at least I’m trying to be the loser that makes his own happiness and that’s that.”

 

He’s about to run when his Mom spits. “That Park Woojin is a bad influence on you, we knew it. We knew it. So you’ll stay away from him from now on.”

 

“Oh yeah, Ma?” He faces them with confidence. “He’s never a bad influence. He actually is the one to support me and fight for me. The first and the only one.”

 

“And what are you going to do about it?”

 

_ Fuck it,  _ his mind screams and run away with tear-stricken face.

  
  
  


Jihoon  _ resists. _

 

Jihoon resists the urge to break down the way he’s used to be.

 

_ But where are you, Woojin? _

 

Jihoon has looked for him everywhere --- in the library, in the rooftop, in the exit stairs --- but Woojin is not there. Not anywhere and Jihoon wants to break down.

 

But as Jihoon gives up, he hears the motorcycle sound that he creepily knows. He turns to look as the sound comes close and Jihoon can’t help but put his arms around Woojin.

 

_ I missed you. Where were you? _

 

“Doll,” Woojin’s voice rings as he plays with the hair strand on Jihoon’s nape. Jihoon only hugs tighter. “what’s wrong?”

 

When Jihoon decides to look up to Woojin, he has to hold his heart in place. He notices how  _ different _ Woojin looks this time.

 

Hair gelled perfectly in a comma hair and black suit fitting tightly on his body.  _ Damn, gorgeous Woojin _ .

 

“I--- I was looking for you.” He shyly admits to  _ him. _

 

Woojin traps his face in between  _ his  _ fingers and smiles again. “Would you like to come with me tonight, Doll?”

 

Anywhere is good with Woojin by his side. Because Woojin is going to pick up the broken pieces of Jihoon and tape it back with  _ his _ own missing pieces of brokenness.

  
  
  


Jihoon  _ resists. _

 

Jihoon resists the urge to kiss Woojin senseless. So hard.  _ So fucking hard. _

 

He wants to --- he needs to.

 

But he resists it.

 

They are lying on a cold grass hill somewhere far and hidden away from anybody, eyes trained up in the starry sky.

 

Woojin looks ravishing, with both  _ his _ hands under  _ his _ head and Jihoon has turned his own body facing  _ him. _

 

With Woojin, Jihoon forgets. With Woojin, Jihoon forgives the world.

 

“C’mere doll.” Woojin urges and offers  _ his _ left hand for Jihoon to rest his head on. Jihoon stills and Woojin only nods. No pressure but calm.

 

With a determined sigh, Jihoon willingly does put his head on Woojin’s bicep. It isn’t really prominent but it still feels good to lie with  _ him _ like this.

 

“My parents… and I had a disagreement.” He starts. “I told them I wanted to take photography. And they didn’t want me to. They even told me you’re a bad influence.”

 

“Do you agree?”

 

Jihoon shakes his head. “No. I’d still think you’re the best thing in my life.”

 

Woojin smiles and clinches his chin with fingers to meet  _ his  _ eyes. “And you’ve been the best part of mine, too, Doll.”

 

“I tried looking out for you --- you have been gone for two days.” Jihoon pouts, unconsciously, at Woojin, sulking. “I tried to ride the Ferris wheel and I did it. I wanted to tell you about that.”

 

“I’m glad you did it, Doll, and I’m sorry I’ve been gone.”

 

“Where did you go? And what’s with your suit?”

 

“Does it look bad?”

 

_ No,  _ he wants to counter back.  _ You’ve never looked back even with your battle scars, Woojin. _

 

“Hey.” Woojin flickers his forehead fondly. “I went to New York.”

 

_ New York. _

 

“I paid for the lease of the apartment I wanted to rent when I go to New York.”

 

_ New York _ doesn’t sound appealing in Jihoon’s ears right now.

 

But when he looks at Woojin,  _ he’s _ smiling so widely as if  _ he  _ has never lost faith in this world. As if  _ he _ has never lost hope.

 

“Doll?” Woojin calls and breaks Jihoon’s reverie. “Are you alright?”

 

How can Jihoon be alright when the best thing about this town will suddenly be gone in two months away from now?

 

_ I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to leave me. Please stay. Stay. _

 

“Doll.” He sees a little bit hope in Woojin’s eyes as  _ he _ calls him.

 

Jihoon lies still. His own heart betraying him.  _ Calm down. Calm down, heart. _

 

“I---” Woojin starts. “I--- want--- Doll, I want you to go with me in New York? I could major in Dance and you--- you could major in Photography. I’ll take part-time jobs while we’re at it, too.”

 

_ want to go with me in New York _

 

_ with me _

 

_ in New York? _

 

Jihoon sits up, shaking from shock. Woojin wants to be with him? Woojin wants to spend this with him? 

 

With Park Jihoon?

 

“I mean---” Woojin scrambles with  _ his  _ words, sitting up as well. “you know like if---  _ ohmygod,  _ Doll, please speak.”

 

Jihoon shushes  _ him _ with his fingers on  _ his  _ lips, still trying to digest what Woojin has said.  _ Is it real? Why would you want to spend time with a loser like me? _

 

“You can’t be serious.” Jihoon mumbles in disbelief.

 

“I am.” Woojin’s muffled voice echoes.

 

_ But why? _

 

Jihoon shakes his head, jumps on Woojin’s lap, and takes Woojin’s face with his own hands. He doesn’t notice it before but he knows now that Woojin’s face is just as trembling as his own figure.

 

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” He answers, too excited. 

 

Woojin exhales loudly, chuckling. “Oh god, Doll.” Woojin rests  _ his  _ forehead on Jihoon’s shoulder. “I thought you’d say no. Oh my god. And thank god, you didn’t. I thought you’d really say no.”

 

Jihoon rubs Woojin’s back with his hands. “Woojin, but why? Why me? I don’t want your pity. I don’t need saving.”

 

“No pity, no saving.” assures Woojin. “But---” He stops and meets Jihoon’s eyes. Jihoon’s pupils waver a bit from Woojin’s intense gaze. “you know, right? No pity, no saving, not anything. Just love.”

 

_ Love? _

 

“The moment I saw you --- the very first time I saw you --- I have fallen in  _ like  _ with you. I was curious --- I was beguiled. Doll, I have fallen in love with you. No reasons. No hesitations. No ifs. No buts.”

 

Jihoon feels like flying, with his hands on Woojin’s and then he meets Woojin’s lips. Raw --- emotional --- innocence --- and freedom. 

 

Woojin tastes like freedom.

 

Jihoon likes it very much.

 

_ Because I think I like you too.  _

 

_ And I think I would rather have an unsure future with you. _

  
  


Jihoon does not resist anymore.

  
  
  


Jihoon  _ feels. _

 

Jihoon feels the high.

 

Jihoon feels the high and he doesn’t want to come down from the said high.

 

Woojin looks  _ perfect _ , for the lack of a better word as they meet each other’s eyes, beneath Jihoon.  _ His  _ hands running through Jihoon’s face, silently admiring him. Woojin’s eyes twinkle under the dimmed lights of  _ his  _ room.

 

_ His  _ eyes travel from his face down to Jihoon’s body --- worshipping him and only him. Jihoon’s face heats up and tries to cover his naked body with his hands.

 

But Woojin takes his hands with  _ his,  _ intertwining their fingers and they fit perfectly like puzzles. Woojin lifts his hands up to  _ his  _ lips. Jihoon tingles inside.

 

“I want to see you. Only you --- all of you.”  _ His  _ voice is husky, raw, and cold and Jihoon shivers just by the sound of it. “Do you trust me, Doll?”

 

Jihoon wants to cry by how gentle Woojin is. By how warm Woojin is. How reassuring Woojin is.

 

“I’d trust you even with my eyes closed.” He says sincerely as he kisses Woojin.

 

He can taste the cigarette. He can taste the rawness of Woojin. He is sure he tastes strawberry with his toothpaste. But even if he tries to shy away, Woojin would not let him to.

 

Woojin radiates warmth and Jihoon is burning inside. But Jihoon is okay --- much more than okay than he is ready to admit.

 

As Jihoon feels himself ripping out, Jihoon feels elated.

 

“You know that you’re my first, right, Woojinie?” He asks and reassures at the same time.

 

Woojin holds him tight. Woojin holds his body, hands, and his heart. And Jihoon trusts  _ him _ .

 

_ You’ll be my last too, Woojin. _

 

“You are my first, as well.” Woojin admits.

 

Jihoon cries out.

  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ waits. _

 

Jihoon is anxious. 

 

A week shy away from now, it’s their  _ graduation. _ All this while, Woojin has been reassuring at  _ his _ finest. Jihoon feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

 

“Have you ever told your parents about you moving to New York?” Jinyoung asks with his hands on his suit.

 

Jihoon struggles with his own suit and faces Jinyoung with a surprise marking his face. “No?”

 

_ Oh god. _

 

“Don’t tell me you forgot, hyung!” Jinyoung accuses, pointing his finger at him.

 

Jihoon freezes in his place, feet digging in the ground. What would his parents tell him?

 

“Jinyoungie hyung!” Someone else calls and they see Daehwi and Woojin running towards them.

 

Woojin welcomes Jihoon with open arms but he doesn’t even move.

 

“Doll?” Woojin calls.

 

“Is Jihoonie hyung a statue?” Daehwi’s voice is laced with worry.

 

Jinyoung takes the bag of suit Daehwi is carrying with him. “Well, he forgot to tell his parents about them moving to New York.”

 

“You didn’t!” Daehwi gasps almost dramatically. 

 

Jihoon glares at the couple.

 

Woojin distracts him by taking  _ his _ and Jihoon’s bags of suit and puts it at his back. The other free hand rounding Jihoon’s shoulder.

 

“Doll.” Woojin shakes his shoulder.

 

Jihoon faces Woojin with his mouth agape. “I’m so sorry, Woojinie. I haven’t told them. I’m sorry.”

 

“Doll,” He puts his free hand on his face. “please calm down. Tell them when you’re ready. I will wait, don’t worry.”

 

“But what if they tell me I shouldn’t go with you? What if they forbid me to go with you?”

 

Woojin hushes with worries with a smile  _ and this feels unfair. How do you even do it, Woojin?  _ “Even so, whatever everyone tells you to do, it’s your decision and we will find ways. As long as you want me to be with you. I will be with you.”

  
  


_ I want to be with you. Always. _

 

“Doll?”  _ He _ taps his face lightly. And chuckles. Both Jinyoung and Daehwi’s faces turn from worries to surprise. Because even though he is friends with them --- Woojin is a stranger.

 

And to know Woojin is smiling --- chuckling is puzzling the couple. Woojin has always been the quiet and mysterious type.

 

Woojin then kisses him on his forehead then his nose then his right cheeks and the  left.  _ He _ nuzzles  _ his  _ nose on his’ and Jihoon wants to hide as he hears Daehwi and Jinyoung gagging at the background.

 

He is still not used with this kind of affection.  _ Not yet. _

 

“Nobody is pressuring you, alright? Just so you know. We’ll take it on your phase.”

 

And if that is not enough for Jihoon’s heart to feel the softest, he doesn’t know anymore.

  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ struggles. _

 

Jihoon struggles to find the proper words out of his mouth.

 

His parents are looking at him with expectant eyes and if he were the old Park Jihoon, he would’ve backed out and not push this through.

 

But he is not anymore.

 

At the end of the day, he is no longer that insecure and unsure Jihoon.

 

“I’ll be moving out of Chicago to New York once I graduate from high school.”

 

“What?” His Mom angrily yells. Both he and his Father jump by the sound of his Mom’s voice. “That’s being ridiculous, Park Jihoon! And who would be with you in New York? You’re crazy.”

 

“I’ll be with my friends, Ma.” He defends. With Woojin. With Daehwi and Jinyoung, too.

 

“That Park Woojin?” His Mom sneers at him. “You haven’t really known him for a year and you want to stake your life --- future --- with someone like him. He, who is just a bastard with a bad reputation. Yet he thinks he owns this world. And you --- you believed him?”

 

“He is not a bastard.” Jihoon yells back as angrily as her. “You too have never shown me love the way he does.”

 

“And you believe him, Jihoon?”

 

“I think --- I will believe him more than you.” He spitefully says. “Because he just doesn’t show me how fucking beautiful life is ---- he has shown me love that I deserve and has never felt --- you have never given me.” 

 

Jihoon runs to his room, angrily stomping in his bed. He hears his Mom screaming downstairs. But he only wraps himself with the comfort of the blankets.

 

When he turns around, a notebook falls from his side table. He checks it and sees Woojin’s handwriting. He smiles and pads up to open his window.

 

He sees the sky full of stars and he sighs longingly.

 

_ And when it gets too hard, look up at the stars and look how they all shine for you, Doll. For whatever happens, you will shine the brightest and the longest. Always remember that. _

 

Jihoon does not struggle anymore.

  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ forgives. _

 

Jihoon remembers how forgiveness feels like.

 

The leather maroon suit coupled with maroon low V-neck itches on Jihoon’s body. The tight leather maroon pants hang  _ too _ tightly against his legs. Even the maroon scarf hanging innocently around his neck is kind of annoying. Jihoon kind of wants to remove them but he remembers how good-looking Woojin is on his own and he doesn’t want to lose.

 

His hair is styled in a messy wet look. Hair tufted with the hair spray Daehwi has kindly taught him how to use to. His lips painted with lip balm.

 

“Ah, I still will never look good.” He mumbles to himself.

 

Jihoon hears a knock and his Dad pops his head in.

 

“Someone is waiting for you outside.”

 

His heart leaps out of his ribcage. It’s Woojin, he knows and Jihoon worries. For he knows how his parents are against  _ him. _

 

He runs immediately after grabbing his phone and sees Woojin sitting inside their living room. His Mom looking at  _ him  _ intensely. He’s thought about the possible outcomes and he knows he’s fucked up.

 

“Woojin.” He beckons for the latter to stand up.

 

But his parents are having none of it.

 

“Bring back your dates after midnight.” His Dad says with a smile.

 

Jihoon is suddenly baffled.

 

Woojin comes to his side and rests his arm around Jihoon’s place like  _ he’s _ been doing all  _ his  _ life and it feels right.

 

“I will bring my date back, sir.” Woojin politely agrees.

 

“Your dates, Woojin-ssi.” Mrs. Park points out. “My husband meant your and Jihoon’s dates.”.

 

“With all due respect, Mrs. Park, Jihoon is my date tonight.”

 

Then Jihoon’s world stills as his parents take in the fact that Woojin is referring to him as  _ his  _ date. He’s watching as his parents take in the fact that Jihoon is gay and has a boyfriend.

 

But then his Dad smiles at them and he watches in confusion as his Mom also smiles in return. The stern looks turn into soft ones and Jihoon is not sure whether to believe it or not.

 

“Then take him home after the midnight.” Mrs. Park concludes.

 

Woojin takes his hand and nods at them. “I promise, Mr. and Mrs. Park.”

 

Jihoon can only nod at his parents as Woojin excitedly drags him out of their house.

 

His parents’ smiles at him feels like forgiveness.

  
  
  


Jihoon  _ wonders. _

 

Jihoon wonders if it’s real or not.

 

For he is standing in front of a secondhand old Ford pick up and Woojin is smiling so bright at him.

 

“Do you like it, Doll?” This is the first time that Woojin looks terrified.

 

And his eyes train to Woojin and he envelopes  _ him _ inside his arms.

 

“It’s perfect. So perfect.” He says.

 

Because it is. Woojin and  _ his  _ old Ford pick up. And then Jihoon. And the big city New York.

 

Jihoon wonders if it’s a dream or not.

 

“I guess it’ll be more perfect with you and I and New York. How does that sound?” Jihoon asks.

 

“More than perfect.” There’s a light flickering inside Woojin’s eyes and then he knows, Jihoon knows it is enough.

  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ moves. _

 

Jihoon moves to the rhythm as he takes in the sight of Woojin in his gray leather jacket and pants. Brown low V-neck as his inner suits Woojin perfectly it feels like Jihoon wants to put  _ him _ inside his pocket so he doesn’t have to share  _ him  _ with anyone. Not when most girls are looking at them.

 

It’s unfair how Woojin looks effortlessly ravishing and perfect.  _ His  _ tanned skin is flawless under the lights inside their school gym.  _ His  _ eyes seem to shine like stars in the galaxy.

 

“It’s perfect. You and me. In the middle of this school gym. The outcast and the bad one. Who would have thought?” Woojin comments with a smile.

 

He agrees. A year ago --- six months ago --- he would have never thought he would be attending the Graduation ball with The Park Woojin. He would have never thought he’d be attending even by himself.

 

But here they are, Woojin’s arms around his waist and his own hands around Woojin’s nape. This feels all natural.

 

“You look so so ---” Woojin stops midway and shakes  _ his  _ head. “I have no word --- no word from the Merriam could have described how ethereal and beautiful you look and you’re mine.”

 

Jihoon’s eyes water from Woojin’s confession.

 

“Doll, I know I really haven’t asked you formally but --- would you take my hand and be someone I can spend my time and life with no matter how unsure it is?”

 

Woojin offers  _ his _ hand and Jihoon takes it. Takes it along with his own heart. What he least expects it for Woojin to suddenly tear up and rests  _ his _ head on his shoulder.

 

“What did I do to deserve you, Doll, I would never understand. But thank you and I love you.”

 

Jihoon lifts Woojin’s head from his shoulder and leans to pepper  _ his _ face with tiny kisses that he likes so much.

 

“And I to you.” He confesses shortly and wishes that Woojin knows. He wishes  _ he  _ understands and  _ he  _ gets it.

 

Because even without the music, he and Woojin can move to the rhythm of their own heart beats, that’s all that matters.

  
  
  


Jihoon  _ retaliates. _

 

For the first time in his life, he does so.

 

He feels hands on his shoulders and sees Cha Minho standing in front of him. He takes a step back but the other won’t let him to.

 

“You fag!” Minho hisses at him. “Where’s your boy toy now? Did he leave you for another good fuck, eh?”

 

Jihoon only glares.

 

“You know he’s gonna leave you, too. For a woman, may I add. He is gonna leave you and poor pwetty little pwincess…” Minho’s voice is a little bit higher. “--- you’re going to be left alone.”

 

“Shut up.” He says, turning and walking away from him.

 

“Fag, are you scared?” Minho jeers harder behind him.

 

“What’s this?” Woojin’s voice echoes inside the hallway. Jihoon all but leaps towards  _ him. _

 

Minho smirks. “Oh superman is here, pwincess. Are you sure he’s going to forever save you?”

 

“Shut up, Cha Minho!” He loudly says.

 

Woojin is about to run to Minho when Jihoon takes  _ his _ hand and shakes his head signaling  _ him _ to stop.  _ He is not worth the time. _

 

So they head towards the door but Minho is persistent. And Jihoon is all but a human. When Minho tries to push Woojin on the floor, Jihoon looks back and cannot stop himself anymore.

 

He punches Cha Minho right on his nose.

 

“You!” Jihoon points at Minho. “The next time this happens, I’ll make sure not only your nose is bleeding but your whole fucking face.”

 

Cha Minho scrambles on his feet and runs away.

 

Never in Jihoon’s life he ever feels the satisfaction of punching anyone on his nose. Until Cha Minho happens.

 

Woojin’s mouth widens as Jihoon helps  _ him  _ up on  _ his _ feet with a satisfied smile hanging on  _ his  _ face.

 

“Wow.” Woojin says with disbelief voice. “That was a solid 10, Doll. I’ll take note never to piss you off like that asshole.”

 

Jihoon only smiles in proudness. Woojin squeezes his hand as they leave the gym, the lights and music fading as they go away hand-in-hand.

  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ succeeds. _

 

At least, in his high school. For now.

 

He stands in a line along the other graduating students with a nervous shaking heart and a fuzzy mind. He sees his parents amongst the others waving at him and clapping for him.

 

He’s happy.

 

“Hyung!” Lee Daehwi’s voice shrills from somewhere and he sees the other weave himself from the other students in his black graduation gown. “Congratulations. I knew you’d be the valedictorian.”

 

Jihoon nods and continuously looks somewhere. 

 

“Woojin hyung is at the back. Don’t worry, he’s here.” Daehwi reassures him, patting his shoulder.

 

Before he can really retaliates Daehwi’s words. The graduation marching song starts.

 

Jihoon feels like throwing up as one by one, the students go up the stage. He knows he should never overthink. But where do they go from here? What would happen after this?

 

The future seems skeptical. And Jihoon is a pessimist.

 

When Woojin’s name is called, Jihoon looks up and sees the boy with  _ red haired, white t-shirt and ripped jeans on _ , and he remembers how it begins until now. He remembers how he and Woojin are in the middle of writing of a story that will never end.

 

And when it’s his turn to be called, he hears a loud whistle coming from unmistakably Bae Jinyoung and shrills from Lee Daehwi. He sees his Mom and Dad standing up from their seats and clapping.

 

His eyes flicker towards the red haired boy he’s never thought he’d actually fallen in love with. Woojin is clapping, smiling, and mouths something that Jihoon would never forget and would remember for the remainder of his life.

 

Jihoon succeeds in life.

  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ forgets. _

 

As soon as the end of the graduation, he is swarmed by the other students congratulating him here and there. He smiles at them back, offering the same enthusiasm of congratulations and then Jihoon is swept off inside his Mom’s embrace.

 

It finally feels so nice.

 

“Congrats, Jihoonie.” His Mom offers him a bigger smile. “We’re so proud of you.”

 

“Uh--- thanks Ma.” He says back.

 

Then his Dad offers him a box and Jihoon takes it with confusion. “We know we have never been the best parents. We kind of have neglected you in a way. A sorry will not suffice. But I hope ---- we hope…” His Dad and Mom nod together. “--- we can start anew.”

 

“Dad…”

 

“Open it.” His Mom orders him excitedly.

 

Once he tears off the wrapper, he sees a box of Canon EOS Rebel T6 DSLR camera inside.

 

Jihoon hands tremble as he looks back at his parents with tears in his eyes.

 

“If photography is your passion, then so be it.” His Dad tells him, patting his shoulder. “We’re just so proud of you.”

 

Jihoon envelopes his parents inside his arms. It’s been too long --- he cannot remember the last time he’s hugged his parents but from now on, he’ll make sure this won’t be the last.

 

When they break apart, Woojin is waiting patiently there.

 

“Uhm---” He tells his parents.

 

“Go ahead.”

 

Without any other word, Jihoon runs up inside Woojin’s arms.

 

He belongs.

  
  
  
  


Jihoon  _ breaks. _

 

Jihoon, in his tiptoes, enters his parents’ bedroom and silently watches as the two cuddle in their sleep.

 

He wonders how they would react the morning after only to find out their son is gone.

 

Jihoon, a part of him, does not want to leave. But he cannot stay in this too small town now. He cannot wait to leave for something bigger along with Park Woojin.

 

So with a last kiss on both of his parents’ foreheads, Jihoon drags his suitcase with him.

 

Along with his fluttering heart and hopeful dreams.

  
  
  


Jihoon  _ believes. _

 

Woojin welcomes him with his arms open, battle scars raw for everyone to see, and heart only for Jihoon to take.  _ He  _ takes his suitcases and helps him up along his suitcases at the back of the old Ford truck.

 

His heart and stomach are all flittering around like tiny butterflies flying around as he watches Woojin to start the engine.

 

“Are you ready, Doll?” He questions.

 

Jihoon nods excitedly. “The question should be: is New York ready for me?”

 

Woojin leans forward and takes  _ his _ lips with his. “I’m sure New York has been waiting for us to take over!”

 

Jihoon lifts his camera and points it at his first muse. Woojin is smiling, glowing with fire and Jihoon is ready to be burned if this is what burning feels like.

 

“Then let’s take over New York.” He suggests with a smile.

 

Downtown Chicago is now just a place where he used to live. Bittersweet memories he wants to forgets and remembers. But with New York and with Woojin by his side, downtown Chicago is just a small town.

 

In this 13 hour drive is where Jihoon wants to relish. In this moment he wants to remember.

 

_ Finally. _

  
  
  


Jihoon  _ loves. _

 

New York has been amazing.

 

Jihoon loves it. 

 

And when Jihoon cracks his eyes open taking in the sight of Woojin in his messiest hair and drool on his lips , he loves. 

 

This is what he loves the most.

 

“Good morning, beautiful Doll.” Woojin greets in his deepest voice that sends shiver down Jihoon’s spine.

 

Jihoon flushes and hides his face in between the crook of Woojin’s neck and inhales all the sweat and hard work both he and Woojin are putting to make things work.

 

And Jihoon loves it. 

 

He loves the every waking second he looks at Woojin --- loves the every minute his lips are on  _ his  _ \--- loves the every hour Jihoon knows he’s in love with Park Woojin.

 

He loves it. 

 

He loves  _ him. _

 

No longer are they paradox. Somehow, they have made themselves work.

 

No matter how cold Jihoon is, he knows that the burning flame of Woojin would warm him in the coldest state of their lives.

  
  


“Hyung!” Daehwi whines from the other side of the room. “Can you like shut up early in the morning? Some people need to have their beauty rest. So insufferable early in the morning.”

  
  


And Woojin laughs. And laughs. And laughs.

 

Jihoon has heard the angels sing with Woojin’s laughter and has seen the heaven in Woojin’s arms.

 

Jihoon is ready to spend this with Park Woojin.

 

_ This lifetime? _

 

Jihoon can only wish so. Either way, he and Woojin will make it work. He and Woojin will take over New York.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon finally  _ says. _

 

Jihoon says I do with a smile on his lips.

 

Woojin says I do with his snaggletooth out and a promise of something solid.

 

Not of forever. They both don’t trust forever, they only trust of now and each other.

 

And they do. They do love each other.

 

As Jihoon takes in the sight of Woojin in  _ his  _ all-white suit years after. Jihoon knows Woojin is enough.

 

A stuck up geek and a rebel? It’s never unheard of.

 

For Woojin takes his hands and kisses the wounds with his own battered lips. For Woojin fixes Jihoon’s wounds with his own battered hands. 

 

Without asking anything in return.

 

_ For Woojin and Jihoon. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> pointers to note:
> 
> 1\. why did woojin approach jihoon in the first place?  
> Quoting Woojin “No pity, no saving, not anything. Just love.”  
> 2\. So why did it take so long for woojin to approach jihoon?  
> Woojin was scared. There were so many what if’s and what could have been’s but he decided against them and fuck it. It took him so many years to build up courage bc it’s better late than never try at all
> 
> 3\. Yes, they got married, had two dogs.
> 
> 4\. And yes, 2park is 5ever okay. LMAO
> 
>  
> 
> anyway issokay to throw bricks at me here for comments  
> or @whoojined on twitter just tell me ï h8 u"and i'll follow you!!! I have cc too! "peachesandparks"


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